With You (I Am Whole Again)
by PotterPerfect 07
Summary: "Nothing mattered except the girl with the hideous sweaters, over-confident attitude, and a knack for giving Quinn the kinds of feelings she would rather die than confront." Faberry Drabbles of various genres, completed from online prompts. Small trigger warnings for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Hi All :) I wrote these random drabbles for fun and just figured I'd post them here. I found a bunch of online writing prompts and then just let my imagination go from there. Most of it sticks to the canon of the universe (with the devastatingly obvious exception that Faberry _exists_), but some things are borne from my own personal head-canon so I'm sorry if there's some small discrepancies. Similarly, I haven't gone to any great lengths to edit these, and some of them are quite old, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes in grammar or whatnot. Anyway-enjoy!

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Prompt 1: Wild Night:

Rachel opened a bleary eye and was just about to open the other when she took in the blaring sunlight streaming through the bedroom window—there were usually blinds closed on that window. Why weren't the blinds closed?

Reaching across the bed, she had a dawning realization that the open blinds probably had something to do with the absence of a certain blonde in the bed next to her. Quinn's place was warm, so she obviously hadn't been up long, but Rachel still pouted at her lack of presence when her girlfriend so obviously needed her. Instead of calling Quinn's name she let out a loud groan and sure enough, Quinn had heard her and appeared in the doorway within seconds.

"How are you feeling?" the taller girl asked, sitting gingerly on the bed next to Rachel and holding out a steaming cup of tea.

"Like hell," Rachel moaned, squinting her eyes and taking the tea from Quinn. She bent over to take a sip but recoiled at the smell. "Ugh, I'm sorry I can't even think about putting things in my stomach right now," Quinn looked a little affronted at having her tea rejected, but her face smoothed over into a sympathetic expression when she saw how pale Rachel was.

"Maybe that's best…" she frowned, crawling under the covers and reaching out her arms for Rachel to cuddle into. "You drank _so_ much last night."

"Please don't remind me," Rachel winced. "And if you so much as utter the word vodka, I'm going to vomit all over you."

Quinn scrunched up her nose and began playing with Rachel's hair.

"No thank you," she giggled. "You did enough of that last night."

"What?" Rachel's head shot up from Quinn's chest, an action she regretted immediately after. "Did I really? I vomited on you? I don't remember… Oh my god Quinn I'm so sorry!"

Quinn giggled again and guided Rachel's head back to her chest.

"I'm teasing you babe. You did puke. A lot. Just not on me."

"On anyone?" Rachel asked, timidly.

"No, and thankfully you made it to the toilet too. With a lot of help from me, I might add," she chuckled, remembering how Rachel had insisted she was completely fine and could still make it for another round at the next bar they had gone to. Half an hour later found the sick Brunette hunched over the toilets in the bar with her girlfriend rubbing her back and holding her hair out of the way.

"Thanks for taking care of me," Rachel mumbled, scooting her body closer so that she was flush against Quinn.

"Of course," Quinn said matter-of-factly. "It's not like I was going to leave you there."

"No but, you know what I mean. I know you don't like when I drink that much…" Rachel trailed off, referring to the fights they used to have when Rachel would come home from cast parties completely wasted and puking on the doorstep.

"It's not like that anymore, Rach. You weren't with some sleezbags at random skeevy New York City clubs. You were with me. I mean, I did tell you to slow down on the shots, but you know…arguing with you is rather tough, especially when I was pretty wasted myself."

"You were more high than you were drunk though, right?" Rachel asked, nuzzling her nose into Quinn's neck.

"So you do remember some of the night," Quinn laughed, rubbing small circles on her girlfriend's back.

"Pieces of it. You and Santana got stoned before we even left the apartment."

Quinn didn't miss the hint of an accusatory tone.

"Rachel come on, you know I'm more lucid when I'm high than drunk anyway. I needed to be on my top game because I knew you wanted to drink so I had to look out for you. But believe me, I was plenty drunk as well," Quinn assured her.

"I know, I'm sorry. To each her own. You know I just hate the smell."

Quinn knew there was more to pot that Rachel hated, but she didn't want to dreg up a negative past, and she accepted Rachel's placating gesture as a peace offering.

"So I take it you're not going to want breakfast?" Quinn asked playfully, entwining their legs and pulling Rachel farther on top of her.

Rachel groaned, clutching at her stomach and closing her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," Quinn bit her lip. "I didn't realize you were really that nauseous. But if it makes you feel better, I don't think there's anything else in your stomach to come up."

Rachel winced again and hugged Quinn's middle.

"Stop talking about throwing up before I do it all over you."

"Hmmm, what was that Miss Berry? What are you going to do all over me?" Quinn teased, making her way to cup Rachel's ass, squeezing quickly.

"Quinn if you think I'm up for having sex right now then you've got another thing coming," Rachel mumbled into Quinn's neck.

"I'd _like_ to have another thing coming," Quinn bit her lip, stifling her laughter.

"Quinn!"

"Sorry, love, it was just too easy. I'll let you rest if you want…" she said, taking her hands off of Rachel's ass.

"Yes please," Rachel nodded imperceptibly and gave Quinn's neck a tiny kiss. "Stay with me though? You know I hate waking up and seeing you're not there."

"I know, I'm sorry. I figured you'd be feeling kind of punchy and might want tea."

"Well I do appreciate it, but right now I'd rather have you." Rachel yawned and melded her body more softly into Quinn's side, luxuriating under the soft touches the blonde was administering to her back.

"Close your eyes and relax, Rach. We don't have to do anything for hours. I'll be here when you wake up and then you can drink your tea," Quinn offered, now running her fingers against Rachel's scalp and through her hair.

"I love you," Rachel breathed out.

"Love you too, drunky."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Prompt: In Love

"What?" Rachel asked, letting out a noise between a giggle and an exasperated sigh.

"Nothing, nothing," Quinn raised her eyebrows, shaking her head and shifting herself so that she was propped up on her elbow, hovering over her girlfriend. "You're just…stunning," she whispered, taking her index finger and trailing it across Rachel's collarbone.

"I'm not…" Rachel spoke quietly, closing her eye and sinking back into the pillows. She moved to cover her naked chest with the blankets, but Quinn moved quicker, gently pulling the white sheet from her hand and shaking her head again.

"You don't need to do that around me, ok? I told you I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I mean it, Rachel. I don't know how I ended up so lucky," she breathed, sniffling a little as she looked down into Rachel's eyes.

"You're crying!" Rachel exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. "Sweetheart, you're actually crying right now!" She bit her lip and let out a small giggle, reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek and wipe away the droplets of saline.

"I'm happy," Quinn defended. "You don't understand what that means for me…Rachel you know I used to be unhappy, but I don't think you understand the extent to which I was absolutely fucking miserable," she explained, ignoring how Rachel flinched when she cursed. "My family is…my family, and they didn't make it easy to grow up. And I wasn't ok with a single aspect of myself, from my weight to my appearance, and especially my sexuality."

Rachel listened intently, nodding slightly and scratching the back of Quinn's neck soothingly.

"And now there's you, and you're pretty much the best thing that's ever been in my life, and yeah I'm crying but it's only because I'm so in love with you," she let out, sighing with cathartic release.

Opposite her nature, Rachel didn't say anything, just pulled Quinn down and pressed her lips against Quinn's. She smiled and groaned a little at Quinn's responsiveness, and the way she lowered her body so she was lying parallel on top of Rachel.

"You know that cheesy line where it's like 'I love you to the moon and back?'" Rachel asked, reaching her hands to Quinn's lower back and fisting her tank top.

"Hmmm," Quinn nodded, shifting so Rachel could pull her shirt over her head.

"I don't know if I like it," Rachel hummed, unclasping Quinn's bra and sliding the straps down her arms. "I don't know if I'd want to love you to the moon and back."

"Well where do you want to love me to?" Quinn giggled, letting her bra fall off the side of the bed.

"That's the thing, I don't want to love you to anywhere. That implies that I have to leave you. Like I love you so much I'll go to the moon and back for you, but I don't want to ever go anywhere that far without you. I'd like to think that if I went so far as the moon, you'd be right beside me the whole time, reading me your poems and complaining about how the moon doesn't have bacon," Rachel laughed, halfway serious.

Quinn rolled her eyes and kissed Rachel again.

"You're ridiculous," Quinn said through blurry eyes. "And now you're making me cry again," she sniffed, reaching up to wipe at her eyes.

"Happy tears though, right?" Rachel giggled, moving her legs so they were wrapped around Quinn's.

"Always, love," Quinn answered, leaning back down to kiss her girl.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Prompt: Regret

She was at her locker, all decked out in the tiniest skirt Quinn had ever seen, and a sweater that looked like it was sewn by a five year old for an ugly sweater party. Quinn tried to focus on the ugliness of the sweater and not the way the girl's skirt had risen slightly as she reached into her locker, revealing an inch or so more of her long, toned legs. This was Rachel Berry, the loud-mouthed, obnoxious know-it-all who liked to sing in empty classrooms when she thought no one was looking. She had no place at this school, and under the social hierarchy of high school, it was Quinn's job to make sure she knew it. It had been that way for years, and Quinn would administer a thousand slushy facials than admit she was tired of it.

Biting the inside of her lip and resolutely setting her face into a scowl, Quinn turned behind her to the two hulking football players, giving them a decisive nod and watching as they sidestepped her and made their way toward the tiny girl reaching into her locker. Closing her eyes, Quinn heard the small squeak and the familiar splashing sound of ice-cold, blue dye #4 hitting its target. When she opened her eyes and peered around the corner, all that was left to be seen was a puddle of melted blue slushy forming around a dry spot in the shape of two, size seven Mary-Jane shoes.

Her own shoes seemed glued to the floor as she stared at the puddle. It wasn't supposed to be like this…she was supposed to be popular, of course—hadn't Daddy always told her she was nothing if not important? And hadn't Mommy always imparted in her the significance of a good reputation? Of being pretty, and popular, and influential, and on top? She chewed methodically at the inside of her lip as she remembered being twelve and asking her parents if they loved her. Four years later and she still never got her answer.

Pathetic. That's how she felt staring at the blue mess, which seemed to reflect everything she hated about herself. About this school. About absolutely fucking everything. With a deep sigh, she forced her feet to move, and she inched closer to the puddle; she looked down into it and tried not to catch her own reflection—she failed, and blinked back tears when she saw the miserable, pathetic face staring back. It's the face everyone wants, or so she's been told by countless girls she's walked all over, or nameless guys she's fucked. None of it mattered, she'd trade her face in for a life she could actually endure without wanting to swallow a handful of sleeping pills. Absolutely none of it mattered to her anymore.

Nothing except the girl with the hideous sweaters, over-confident attitude, and a knack for giving Quinn the kinds of feelings she would rather die than confront. Somehow, that girl found her way inside Quinn, and somewhere along the way, Quinn decided that she mattered a whole lot. Because she was also the girl with the long legs, the soft, brown hair that cascaded down her back in gentle waves, and curled just so at the ends; she was also the girl with the voice like a songbird, who rendered Quinn immovable and speechless every time she heard it; she was the girl with the kindness and compassion of someone who had never seen what the world could do, and she was the girl who didn't deserve the way the world was treating her. The way Quinn was treating her.

She backed away from the puddle, her heart sinking and her throat tightening. It wasn't the first time she had cried in school—only last week Santana had caught her in a bathroom stall, hunched over the toilet, sobbing at the mess of lunch and blood staring back at her—but it was the first time she had cried over Rachel Berry. She didn't want to think of what that meant. She only wanted to go home and pull out the bottle of vodka she kept under her bed and down just enough to stop thinking for five fucking minutes.

But the bell rang, and Quinn wiped her eyes on she shoulder of her cheerleading uniform, plastered a smirk onto her face, and didn't look back when she brushed against a small, watery-eyed figure walking out of the bathroom smelling like blueberry slushie.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Prompt: Yoga Class

"What are you doing this Sunday morning?" Rachel asked, stopping her absentminded scrolling on her phone and looking over at Quinn, who looked up from the newspaper she'd been reading.

"Going to church."

If Rachel hadn't known her girlfriend so well, she would've missed the joke. She rolled her eyes and sank farther into the couch, moving to place her legs across Quinn's thighs.

"No, really. Do you have any important plans?"

"On a Sunday morning? No. I was just planning on waking up and making some coffee and maybe heading over to the farmers' market on fifty-third while I wait for you to get out of yoga. The woman selling that jam you love so much is coming back this weekend," Quinn shrugged, her hands falling to Rachel's shins and rubbing them, eyes wandering back to her newspaper.

"Well, though I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, Quinn, jam can wait."

Quinn set the newspaper down fully this time and turned to Rachel.

"And what can jam wait _for_, Rach? What's going through your mind?" she chuckled, pulling playfully at Rachel's toes. Rachel squealed and yanked her foot back.

"Come to yoga with me."

"What? Rachel, no. I'm awful at yoga, you know that. And that incense gives me headaches," she huffed.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Marijuana doesn't give you headaches, but the smell of incense does," she muttered under her breath. "Come on, please? It'll be fun. I always talk about you there and my instructor suggested I invite you, free of charge!"

"Free of charge? What's the catch?"

"No catch at all. I just want to show you what it's like, and I think it'll really help you. You've been majorly stressed lately and you're hunched over that laptop all the time writing…I think this will be a great opportunity for you to relax and nourish your mind and body." Rachel spoke excitedly and Quinn sighed.

"You sound like a hippie."

"And you sound like a grump. Quinn pleaseeeee…and don't give me any more of that 'I'm not good at yoga' miss head cheerio," Rachel raised her eyes.

"What does me having been head cheerio have to do with being good at yoga?"

"You're flexible," Rachel stated matter-of-factly, braving putting her feet back in Quinn's lap.

"I haven't done cheer in nearly six years, babe," Quinn pointed out, returning her hand to Rachel's shins and rubbing up and down.

"You're still flexible," Rachel winked, her voice low and playful now.

"Oh yeah? What makes you say that?" Quinn teased, already knowing the answer.

"Hmm I wonder," Rachel rolled her eyes. "I don't suppose I'd know because 75% of the time I spend with you is spent in bed."

"75%!? Rachel that's not even close to being accurate. We do other things besides sex!"

"I know, I know," Rachel conceded. "But you're still flexible.

"Fine, I'm flexible. I still don't want to go."

"What if afterward we went to Grinds?" Rachel pleaded, trying to appease her stubborn girlfriend.

"What the fuck? What's that, some kind of weird sex club?" Quinn asked, stopping the movement of her hands against Rachel's ankles.

"No, perv. It's the new coffee shop on fourtieth. The one I've been telling you about for weeks. Nice to know you pay attention when I talk…" Rachel huffed.

"Sorry," Quinn said sheepishly. "If it makes you feel any better, it's hard to pay attention to your words when I'm staring at your ass."

"Quinn!"

Quinn only grinned, pushing Rachel's legs off of her and swinging her body around so that she was hovering over the brunette.

"It's just…_such_ a nice ass," she bit her lip and ground her body down into Rachel.

"Q—fuck," Rachel moaned, letting her head fall back against the arm of the couch. "You should talk. Yours is like…godly."

Quinn blushed and ducked her head.

"Six years and you still blush every time I compliment your body," Rachel spoke softly, reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek. She ran her thumb back and forth over the soft skin directly under Quinn's eye.

"You know why, Rachel. My body isn't something I…Before you, I never felt…you know what I did to my body. It's hard to…"

"Shhh," Rachel soothed, leaning up to peck Quinn's lips softly. "I know, sweetheart. But you're here now, with me, and yes you're beautiful but you know that you're so so much more."

Quinn nodded after a moment and looked down at the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"I love you, you know."

"Right back at you," Rachel winked. "So, does that mean you'll come to yoga with me?" she added, slyly.

"Will you be wearing those sexy leggings?" Quinn asked, swping her tongue across her lip.

"Mhmm. And bending over practically _all_ the time. Twisting and writhing my body into all_ kinds_ of wonderful poses," she spoke lowly, her voice husky. "I get a lot of release that way…."

Quinn bit her lip and gave a small groan.

"Fine. You win. I'm in."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
Prompt: Sitting next to each other on a long bus ride.

Rachel huffed for the fourth time that minute as she attempted to make herself more comfortable on the grimy bus seat, carefully scooting her body closer to Quinn's and strategically avoiding the dark stain on the blue seat.

"Someone's agitated," Quinn commented, looking over the top of her book and smirking at Rachel's attempts to get more comfortable.

"These seats are _so_ uncomfortable, Quinn," she whined, arching her back and massaging her neck, circling her thumb around the knot that had begun to form.

"I know, babe, but we only have an hour left and then we'll be in Cincinnati. And then we can get out and I'll go for a walk with you to stretch out before we perform, alright?"

Rachel sighed and nodded, leaning the right side of her body against Quinn and looping her arm through her girlfriend's.

"Do you mind if I sleep on you? I'm exhausted."

"Of course not. You can lie across my lap if you want, it'll give your legs more room to stretch out," she offered, clearing her bag off of her lap.

Rachel nodded and bent down to riffle through her own bag, pulling out her iPod and then maneuvering her body so that she was curled up on the seat, her head in Quinn's lap.

"Mmmm this is much better," she giggled, scooting around until she found the perfect position. "Why didn't I do this earlier?"

Quinn laughed and started playing with the ends of Rachel's hair, eliciting a soft hum from the brunette.

"What are you going to listen to?" Quinn asked, nodding toward Rachel's iPod.

"I don't know yet….pick something?" Rachel asked, handing the iPod over to Quinn and closing her eyes, breathing deep and toying with the hem of Quinn's dress. She liked the feeling of the cotton between her fingers, but she liked even more when her fingers would slip slightly and she'd be rubbing Quinn's bare thigh. Quinn had the most perfect skin.

"Sure," Quinn laughed, taking the iPod and scrolling through Rachel's playlists. She was just about to pick a song when she felt a powerful jolt to her seat that almost caused Rachel to tumble from her lap. Narrowing her eyes she placed her hand on Rachel's shoulder to steady her and rose slightly in her seat, looking behind her to where Brittany and Santana were sitting. She grimaced as she saw them wrapped around each other, Santana's foot jammed against the back of Quinn's seat into which it had presumably been thrust, causing the sudden jolt. "Can you two knock it off for like, ten minutes?" she growled.

Santana, still attached to Brittany by the lips, raised her hand and flipped Quinn off while simultaneously slipping her hand underneath Brittany's top. Brittany giggled and threw her leg over Santana's lap, kissing her harder.

"Santana!" Quinn said louder this time, reaching over to smack her best friend on the shoulder.

"_What_?" Santana growled, angrily, finally surfacing from Brittany.

"You kicked my seat, and Rachel's trying to sleep—can the two of you quit it for like, ten fucking seconds? If Mr. Schue catches you screwing each other on this bus again he's going to kick you out of the club," she huffed, groaning internally at how much she sounded like Rachel.

"Fuck off, Q. What's wrong? Berry not letting you finger her or something?"

Quinn turned bright red and narrowed her eyes in anger.

"Ok first of all, neither of us is going to do _that_ on a public bus, unlike the two of you. And second, this is the last time I'm going to tell you to stop making crude jokes about our sex life!"

"San," Brittany whined, trying to pull Santana back on top of her.

Quinn only rolled her eyed when Santana flipped her off again and went back to making out with Brittany, giving Quinn's seat a good hard kick as if to say 'don't tell me what to do.' Quin sat back down with a huff and tugged at Rachel's arm until she was sitting up in the seat again. Not waiting to give Rachel an explanation, she cupped her cheek and brought their lips together, kissing her thoroughly. When she finally pulled away, Rachel had a dazed, satiated grin on her face.

"She really gets to you, doesn't she?" Rachel spoke, this time swinging her legs across the blonde's lap and resting her torso parallel to Quinn's.

"Who, Santana?" Quinn raised her eyebrows. "Of course she does, that's not a secret. She's a bitch."

"Maybe," Rachel shrugged, "but if she makes you kiss me like that, then I almost want to thank her," she chuckled.

"Ugh, please don't," Quinn made a face, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I know you're sleepy. I just wanted to tell her that kicking my seat was rude when you were trying to sleep."

"Well, I'm not really tired anymore," Rachel hummed, placing a small kiss to Quinn's neck.

"But I was going to pick out a nice, calming song for you to listen to," Quinn pouted, involuntarily turning her neck so that Rachel had more skin to kiss.

"Hmm, but then you kissed me. And now that's kind of all I can think about."

"Rach, I just yelled at those two back there," she jabbed her thumb in Brittany and Santana's direction, "for fooling around on the bus…I don't want to be hypocritical," she frowned.

"Fine," Rachel smirked, pulling away completely and turning to look out the window. After several moments, Quinn groaned and bit her lip, pulling on Rachel's arm.

"Maybe I could make an exception…if we're quiet," she whispered.

Rachel grinned and folded her body back into Quinns, resuming planting kisses to Quinn's neck.

"If you're extra quiet, I may even let you finger me," Rachel breathed, grinning against Quinn's neck. Quinn blushed scarlet red and pulled away from Rachel.

"Really?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Well, no. But I'll let you tell Santana that you did, if you want. To get her to shut up," Rachel said, biting her lip and looking down.

"You heard what she said?" Quinn asked.

Rachel nodded and pecked Quinn on the lips quickly.

"Mhmm. It's ok though, thanks for defending me by the way. Defending us. You're right, our sex life is absolutely none of her business, no matter how much it so obviously turns her on to think about," Rachel said matter-of-factly.

Quinn burst out laughing, nodding her head and taking Rachel's hand.

"C'mere, babe," she breathed, pulling Rachel in for a deeper kiss this time.

"You're kind of the best," Rachel spoke between kisses.

"Kind of?"

"Just kiss me."

And Quinn did.


End file.
